Sentinel
by Mrs Sevvie Snape
Summary: It's back to the good old days, when Irina was Laura, and Jack was happy. This is from the view point of Emily, and it delves into her past. There's also a catch. Emily remembers everything that happens to her through out her life, including up to the mom
1. The Beginning

**FanFic Title:** Sentinel  
**FanFic Description:** Jack/Irina Sloane/Emily. Back to the good old days. More ships may show up throughout this. It is a work in progress.

**Author's Notes:** First off I would like to apologize to the readers/JJ if I protray the characters differently then you would like/think they should be protrayed. I'm just running with this and we'll see how it goes. Any and all feedback-positive or negative-is definately welcome. Words in i_italics/i_ in the body of the story, indicate thoughts.  
**Background:** In Season 4, Jack says that Sentinel refers to Yelena Derevko. That's where the title for this FanFic came from.  
**Classification:** Everything is possible - smut, language, violence, and adult situations. Like I said, everything is definately fair game.  
**Dedication:** I want to dedicate this FanFic to Lili and thank her for being such an amazing friend to me. Love you girl! I'm also dedicating this FanFic to my computer. Now maybe it won't be pissy at me and keep skrewing up with me since I didn't dedicate my last FanFic to it prays  
**Disclaimer:** Alright these characters- Alias-belong to the god of TV shows, JJ Abrams. However, there are a few characters that he made up but I'm giving them history and creating/forming their personality.  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Spoilers:** None that I can think of.

**Chapter One: **The Beginning

_March 10, 2003  
Tuscany  
__3:24 pm_

The pain. I can feel it course through my body. I try to scream, but no words come out of my mouth. I'm falling. Falling! I try to brace myself on his body, but all I grasp onto is air. Suddenly, the world goes black.

_August 1, 1972  
Los Angeles, California  
__2:59 am_

I gasp for air and sit up suddenly. _Where am I?_ I look around the room, and it registers. I'm home. _But, I..I was just..Someone just..killed me!_ With a quick look over to my right, I can see my husband's sleeping form. He looks so peaceful, and happy.

A soft smile appears on my lips, before I gently lay next to the sleeping man beside me, and lay my head on his chest. I whisper softly to him, even though I know he can't hear me. "I love you, Arvin."

Once again, the blackness surrounds me, and I willingly give myself to it.

_August 3, 1972  
Los Angeles, California  
__6:37 pm_

The drive home is torture. I had called Arvin at work, and told him that there was something I needed to tell him when he got home. I was going to finally tell him the secret that has haunted me for years. He had assured me that he would be at home, when I got there, and waiting for me.

Finally after what seems like an eternity in the car, I arrive home. I force myself to get out of the car and do this. There's no backing out now.

"Arvin!" I call out as I enter our house. "I'm.." The words are suddenly stuck in my throat as I stare-in shock-at the two people standing in our living room.

"Emily." He smiles and kisses me, as his arm snakes around my waist. "Look who Jack brought over. Appears our friend got himself a fiancee."

I try to force my mouth to say something audible, intelligent, anything. But all I'm doing is staring at the woman in front of me.

"Laura, this is my wife, Emily. Emily, this is Laura."

"Nice to meet you."

_Of course, she can speak perfectly. She wasn't the one thrown for a ride._ "Pleasure." I turn to Arvin and squeeze his hand.

"Oh, and what were you going to tell me, Emily?"

I force myself to brush it off, as if it wasn't a big deal. "Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm..." There is no way I can tell him. Not now. Maybe never.

"Why don't you two girls get to know each other, and Arvin and I will go out for some pizza."

_NO!_ "You don't need to do that, Jack. I'm sure I can make enough food for all of us." Before he has time to answer, I quickly add. "I'll be in the kitchen." With one of my usual sweet smiles, I kiss my husband and walk into the kitchen. _She's here. But why! Why here! Why him! This doesn't make any sense. Oh dear god!_ I hear the front door open and shut, as the men leave the house. A moment later, SHE walks in.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Yelena?"

I twirl around to come face-to-face with her. "What are you doing here?"

"You knew I was being assigned to an agent."

"But Jack!"

"He was assigned to me."

"He's a good man, Irina! He's Arvin's best friend, for god's sake!"

Irina looks tired to me. Something that I never seem to recall seeing her look before. The KGB? Perhaps. Our father? Doubtful. Ever since our mother died, he barely has any energy to burst into one of his tyrades or drunken stupor. He's just a shell of the man that he used to be.

"You can't say anything, ребенок кукла." Baby Doll. That has been Irina's pet name for me since I can remember. Even before then. For my whole life, she has always called me that. Her baby doll. Sometimes I feel like that's exactly how she treats me.

"нота до не звонить меня тот! (Do not call me that!)" Normally, I let her call me what she wishes, but then again, normally she doesn't show up at my house and have the intent of betraying a man that I have become close to.

I can't tell Jack without risking Irina's life as well as my own. I can't tell Arvin without raising questions inside him. To him, I am Emily. I'm not Yelena and I'm not Russian, I'm American. I can only speak Italian because my grandparents only spoke that. Who I am to him, is a far cry from who I really am. I can speak 13 languages, as well as protect myself from anyone I so choose. I'm anything but the helpless woman that he thinks I am, but then, love makes one do crazy things, I suppose.

"Yelena, it will be ok." Her big arms surround me, and I cling onto her. Onto my older sister, hoping to take assurance from her.

Growing up, I admired Irina. I loved her and looked up to her as though she were 30 years older, rather than the mere 3 minutes. To me, she could do no wrong. Katya, on the other hand, was quite the little rebel. Irina was quiet and subdued, Katya was loud and obnoxious. Irina had this beauty about her that made men notice, Katya had to build a reputation up first before she could get men to really notice her. Irina was the best in school, Katya fucked her teachers to get by. Irina was a very private person, Katya couldn't care about privacy. Just like she couldn't care about consequences.

And then there was me. If my sisters were the two extremes, then I suppose I was stuck right in the middle. I was outgoing, but I had my shy moments. One of my favourite things to do was to read. I suppose the love of classical music was something all of us Derevko sisters share. My childhood was filled with my parents listening to Bach, Beethoven, and the other composers just as wonderful as the one before. While I was generally easy going, I could get quite impatient at times. It didn't occur too often that I lost my temper or patience, but it did none the less.

I look at my twin, and I know that as long as she is with me, nothing can go wrong. We stand in silence, just staring at each other, both knowing that perhaps now isn't the time to continue the conversation, but I was not going to tell Irina to leave. Or ask her, even.

She kisses me on the cheek softly, and smiles. "I'm going to go now. But I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

All I can do is nod, still realing from the surprise of me now being allowed to have contact with my sister. "I'll be home all day."

"Ok." With that, she turns and leaves the house, and I am left alone.

Alone with my thoughts, and alone with my fears. I had been going to tell Arvin about who I really was, tonight, but I can't. There is no way that I can now. When I had seen Irina standing there, all I had wanted to do was wake up, sure this was just a dream. But it isn't, and I am fully awake. I'm not one to send people on guilt trips, so I know that as long as my sister is here, my husband can never know. For her safety.

For her, I would do anything. She isn't just my twin, she is-often-the other half of my soul. Irina understands me better than anyone else in the world, and I only love Arvin more than her.

Sighing silently, I decide that it is best to do something. Take my mind off of what is in store for Jack, and just not think. One thing that has never failed to help ease my pain and something I can do without thinking, is my gardening. When I do it, I can forget about whatever is going on in my life and enjoy the outdoors, my plants, the dirt, everything but what was pestering me so unmercifully before.

So after a minute, I head out to the backyard, and that is where Arvin finds me-four hours later-when he comes home. Out with the only "children" I will ever have. My plants.


	2. Remembering

_**Chapter Two**: Remembering_

_August 29, 1969  
NY State University, New York  
__7:30 pm_

With a light sweater around myself, I slowly walk against the cold wind. I have come to America to study. When my father and mother learned that I wanted to become a writer, they immediately enrolled me into a good and proper American University. The fact that my whole family are all KGB agents did blemish my record slightly. So, they gave me an alias. Emily Louise Parker. 'A perfect American name for a perfectly American young woman' my parents told me. Or something like that. It was too long ago and I don't want to think about it.

I never intended to marry someone from the USA, but then, I never intended to marry anyone. Ever. You see, there was a certain prophecy that has been passed down through the centuries, started by a man named Milo Rambaldi. It had to do with two people referred to as The Passenger and The Chosen One. My parents and grandparents have worked tirelessly to ensure that the prophecy handed down by my great-great-great-great (well, you get the idea)grandfather never happens. We knew that the two he told about, would come from our family line. My parents researched for years without end, before all their information pointed to me as the carrier. So, they did the only thing they could do to prevent it.

When I was 15 years old, I went in for surgery and I had my ovaries removed. Not my choice, mind you, but rather my parents. They rationalized it that, without them, I will never bear children, thereby The Passenger and The Chosen One will never be born. The night they told me that I had to go through this procedure, I cried myself to sleep. All I had ever wanted growing up was children. Room upon room of babies. Irina and Katya both hated kids. I remember one time when I was 13, Katya actually growled at a little girl-about 3 years old-who smiled at her. If it hadn't scared the toddler so much, I would have laughed. But of course, she started to cry and I was the one who ended up comforting her. Her name was Anja, and her older brother had left her at the park while he went to the store to buy cigarrettes. That was one of the times that I lost my patience.

I look around quickly before crossing the street, heading towards the small apartment that I'm renting. That's when it happens. I run into something. Fearing that I walked into a child or someone, I quickly look up. I could say that as soon as he looked into my eyes, I knew I was in love. That I kissed him passionately, and we then went back to my house and had sex. But that's not the case. I learned later, that the second he saw me, he was infatuated. Not me.

Without a word, I brush past him, and keep walking towards my apartment building.

"Excuse me. Excuse me!" He calls after me.

_Damn it._ It's not that I'm trying to be rude, I just would rather not be noticed by anyone, especially men.

The man quickly falls in step with me. "My name is Arvin. Arvin Sloane."

I glance over at him. "Emily Parker."

Arvin smiled at me, and I hesitated slightly, but I quickly looked ahead of me. "Where do you live?"

"What?"

"Oh, god, sorry. That probably sounded really bad, didn't it."

"Mhmm.."

"Umm..What I meant is, can I walk you home? New Yorkers are pretty dangerous this time of year." When I looked at him with an eyebrow raised, he chuckles. "I'm not from New York" he told me, as if it explained everything.

"I see." I had never spent any time with a male, except for Irina and Katya's occassional boyfriends, but I ignored them. So this unexpected interaction with someone of the opposite sex, it floored me. I have no clue how to be with him, and I'm sure it showed. "I live about three blocks from here."

There was his smile again. "So where are you from, Emily?"

"All over the place."

"Family moved a lot?"

"No. I did, actually."

"Oh."

"I was in a foster home from when I was 2, and I moved about once a year."

"How old are you? I hope you don't mind me asking."

"18. You?" Without rhyme or reason, I can feel myself slowly relaxing in his company.

"I'll be 19 soon."

Before I realized it, we were standing in front of my apartment door. "Do you..I mean..Maybe..Would you..?"

Arvin nods ever so slightly. "I'd love to."

I smile in relief-I'd never asked a guy if he wanted to come into my apartment before-and let us both in. "It's not that great to look at." My apartment is small, containing a kitchen/dining room, living room, bathroom, and bedroom. There is a small veranda off of it, but that's about all. It isn't spacious, and it definately isn't anything impressive. I did decorate it a bit, but not too much.

"It has a very homey look to it."

I look at him, trying to figure out if he's lying, but I don't see anything. If he is, he's an amazing liar. "Thanks," I reply softly as I put some water on to boil.

We spend the next couple of hours just talking. It's amazing how comfortable I feel around this man, and how at home I have become. He leaves just shortly before midnight and I watch him walk down the sidewalk. Arvin Sloane has become my one and only American friend. Tomorrow night, he's taking me out to a movie, where we'll meet his best friend, Jack Bristow.

Tonight, I sleep peacefully, with the full knowledge that I am not as alone anymore.

**-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-**

_August 4, 1972  
Los Angeles, California  
__5:19 am_

I wake up with a jolt, realization suddenly dawning on me. _I know exactly what is about to happen. I know everything that's going to happen._ I glance down at my husband, and the confusion is overwhelming. _The dream I had three days ago, was it really just a dream! _I'm not so sure, anymore, for I remember everything that will happen between now and the day that I die.

Crawling silently out of bed, my bare feet make no sound as I walk into the bathroom. _I have to talk to Irina about this.  
_


End file.
